Two Words
by kawaiiRose-Silent
Summary: He needed to hear those two words. They confirmed everything, what Draco was feeling, what he wanted, and what he was going to do. War/Post-War Era, not DH compliant.


Disclaimer: I do not, and will never, own the Harry Potter characters. If I did, the story would be a whole lot darker…

A/N: This idea has been bugging me for the past month, more than any other fanfic ideas I've had, so I finally decided to write it down. Big thanks to my beta: dameblanc on livejournal, without her, I probably wouldn't have posted this. Hope you guys like it!

Two Words

That was how he found them: her, sprawled out at unnatural angles with a… _peaceful?_ expression on her face, and him, clutching onto her body for dear life, with a look of utter despair on his. Their rings sparkled in the light, forever holding testament to their undying love. Harry Potter, hero of The War, stood before the dead bodies of Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy. In the dimming sun, they looked like the perfect couple. She was an angel with her ward, and he was a devil with his savior.

_Flashback_

_Draco could feel it; the sense that something was wrong. Here, in the middle of heated battle, something painful struck his heart. His only thought: Hermione. Racing across the field, dodging random hexes and curses, avoiding the flashes of green and red, he searched every duel for the trademark bush of fair, the familiar voice, full of confidence. _

_He finally found her, but was too late. Just as he arrived, the Death Eater sent that faithful spell, the one that brought doom, and made the world seem a little less bright. She turned, distracted by her love, only to be hit a second after, and fell. Her fire had burned out, while Draco's had ignited. As expected, Draco fired in rage, ending the life of the one who took hers, and his. _

_Moments later, he walked toward her body, silently crying. He closed her eyes, kissed her face, and laid down next to her, clutching her hand in his. He felt like a little boy, lost and confused, and wanted nothing more than to wake up from this nightmare to see Hermione's sparkling eyes, her beautiful smile. Curling up as he did in bed when he was younger, he closed his eyes and waited for that dream. The one where he would never wake, and he and Hermione could be together forever. _

_End Flashback_

Harry crouched down next to the two, wanting to say his final goodbyes before ministry officials removed their bodies. He wasn't ready to face the oncoming waves of interviews, the loud congratulations, and lively celebrations. Here, before him, were two great friends and allies. Hermione had been with him since first year, and he had grown to love her like a sister. Draco was just as important, although their relationship started off strained. During preparations for the war, Draco worked along with the Order, and had eventually come close to everyone, himself, Ron, Ginny, Luna, Neville, and most of all Hermione.

He had seen it from the beginning; the knowing glances between the two, the secret smiles they shared. It was obvious they were attracted to each other, though they tried so hard to keep it hidden. It was understandable, Hermione was already a main target because of her connection to him, and Draco made the death list the instant he joined the Order. If they were seen in public together, their deaths would rank among Harry's. That didn't stop them however; it wasn't uncommon to stumble upon them snogging at headquarters. It hit Ron hard at first, but he managed to accept it, even blessing their engagement the night before the final battle.

Twilight was approaching, the skies darkening and lightening up at the same time. To Harry, twilight was the most emotional time of day. Adults came home from work, contemplating their actions; young children said goodbye to old and new friends while leaving the park, hope for the next day's adventure in their head; and couples started fights or reconciled them. Harry stared sadly at the bodies, wishing this wasn't real.

Just after the last glimpses of sunshine, and right before the first rays of moonlight, the blond boy woke with a start. Draco sat straight up, staring wide-eyed at Harry, fear across his face. Harry, in turn, was nearly scared to death by the sudden movement.

"Shit, mate. I thought you were dead!" Harry said, relief causing the nervous smile on his face. He looked back at Draco, panting heavily. Draco still had the same panicked expression, his face stony and still.

Draco whispered, "I'm not?" Something clicked in Harry's mind. _Oh,_ Draco was still in _that_ phase. He recognized that Draco was still in the earliest step of the mourning process. Having lost loved ones since an early age, Harry was well acquainted with the steps: confusion, denial, anger, resolution, and finally moving on.

Harry decided it was best that Draco not get a huge shock. Carefully, he whispered, "No….you're not". Ironic really, the whole situation was huge, and the atmosphere was heavy with tension, but the actions themselves were boring almost.

A few more moments passed. Draco glanced back at Hermione, finally whispering, his soft voice filled with fear. "But she…is?"

Harry frowned and sighed. He was afraid to answer; he couldn't face seeing Draco's reaction. To see the great Draco Malfoy, master at controlling his emotions, break down in front of him was almost too much to bear. Speaking softly, Harry practically muttered to himself, "Yes….I'm sorry"

Realization hit Draco hard; Harry could see that it wiped out the last glimmer of hope in his eyes. It was as if Harry was a dementor, and his words were The Kiss; except Draco wouldn't be soulless, numb, he'd feel at least one emotion: sadness. Draco's eyes widened, brows furrowing. He bowed his head, and blonde shielded silver, trying to hide from the world and the world from his tears. Night was approaching fast now, fittingly making the world darker.

It was pitiful. Draco's soft whimpers, his huddled form, and Harry's careful responses, his inability to help his friend. The two boys sat facing each other, their eyes not meeting. Draco glanced back at Hermione, gathering her hand in his. The action made Draco look even more pitiful, he seemed like a lost little boy. Harry started at the two once again, waiting for his response.

In all the years that Harry had known him, he concluded that Draco could sum up all that he was feeling with two words. This simple phrase could tell Harry exactly how Draco would live the rest of his life, either for the better, or worse. He could picture it now, everyone else living a perfect life, and Draco stuck in his own world. He needed to hear those two words. They confirmed everything, what Draco was feeling, what he wanted, and what he was going to do.

Draco could say, "It's nothing", which meant that he would revert back to his old, Slytherin self. He'd go back to being the cocky, arrogant, prat that made everyone hate him. "It's nothing" meant that Draco completely ignored her death, as if it were insignificant. Harry had seen this transformation a few times, mainly during their earlier years at Hogwarts. Usually, the insignificant things were lost quidditch matches, unfair detentions, and dissatisfying gifts from his parents. Draco would go throughout the day as if they never happened, and if someone mentioned them, he was quick to fire a hex. This response angered Harry the most. It meant that Draco thought Hermione was merely a fling, their love wasn't serious. He'd go on for the rest of life dismissing her death as an _unfortunate_ tragedy, and blaming their relationship on nothing more than a "mudblood-loving phase". It was unlikely, since they loved each other so much, but Harry was prepared to curse Draco if he said those two words.

Harry could also imagine Draco saying, "I'm okay". This meant that he would put on a fake front for the rest of his life. He'd spent the rest of his days smiling and laughing, as if Hermione's death didn't bother him that much. "I'm okay" meant that Draco acknowledged his feelings about her death, but wasn't quite willing to share them. He'd go to the parties, the lunchtime meetings, and the get-togethers acting happily, but secretly crying to sleep every night in his flat. Harry wouldn't be surprised if Draco said these words; the boy was known for hiding his feelings if they meant weakness. He saw this reaction a few times as well, especially during sixth year. Of course, he'd try to help Draco later on, encouraging him to vent, but the stubborn boy would probably deny any sadness. This phrase was slightly better than the first; it meant Draco would mourn for the rest of his life, but at least he was acknowledging his feelings.

The last response Harry could think of would be Draco saying "Go away". Harry hoped the most that Draco said this, for it meant he was trying to cope with his feelings, and after resolving them, eventually move on. He'd lock himself up in his room, and only Harry would be able to visit him in between fits of rage and bouts of sobbing. If this was the case, Harry was confident he could console Draco and help him face her death. After all, he was the only one out of their peers to see him cry. A few days, maybe weeks, even a month later, Draco would emerge, refreshed and ready to take on life. Their friends would welcome him back with open arms, and everything would go back to normal. Harry highly doubted Draco would try to find a new lady, but he'd be happy. With this response, Draco's life would start off rocky after the war, but he'd be able to pick up the pieces with help from Harry.

Harry came out of his reverie. How many moments had passed? Minutes? Hours? Days? It didn't matter, Draco was still in the same position, only this time his eyes were glued to him. Harry looked into storm gray eyes, seeing only a giant cloud of conflict. Only Hermione could decipher those orbs; when Draco was upset she was able to read his thoughts with the same intensity as when she devoured a book. But Hermione wasn't here anymore, and try as Harry might; he would never be able to understand his friend as well as her.

Draco's face was set in grim determination. Determined for what though? Harry couldn't tell. Was he trying to forget all that he and Hermione had, preparing a nasty retort? Was he struggling with his feelings, and trying to paste a smile on his face? Was he mad at Harry for invading a private moment between him and Hermione, and wanted to him to leave, even by force? He finally mumbled something, still clutching Hermione's hand tightly.

Harry stared back, shocked and terrified. That phrase was _not _what he expected. Where was the student who strutted at school, mocking the younger years and giving the "I'm superior to you" attitude? The friend who worked hard to save the wizarding community, while showering his girlfriend with gifts and adoration? The boyfriend who did anything just to please his girl? Harry remembered Draco laughing and smiling in Hermione's presence, and compared him to the boy in front of him. This wasn't Draco Malfoy, member of the Order of the Phoenix and boyfriend to Hermione Granger. This, this _shadow_, was Draco Malfoy, survivor of the war and widower of fiancée Hermione Granger.

These two words confirmed it alright. They told Harry exactly how Draco felt, exactly what he wanted, and exactly what he was going to do.

Kill me

* * *

A/N: I'd just thought I let you all know this was my second ever attempt at fanfiction, my first for Harry Potter. I tried writing it a couple years back...and it didn't turn out so well (some of you might have seen my name before). Anyway, please, please, _please_ R & R, I would greatly appreciate any feedback (concrit is better than flames)! Who knows? If you guys like it enough, I might be inspired to continue writing. I already have some ideas... 


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